


The Maquis Captain's Woman

by DeltaS



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7005103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeltaS/pseuds/DeltaS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes a lifetime to realize what we want...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Maquis Captain's Woman

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted in June 2000

Ah, the painful price of longevity! Once firm and supple flesh withers and disappears into a gray translucent epidermis that covers the barest hint of physical form, leaving only the richness of memories to witness to a full life. The powers of the universe play a cruel final joke by ever-magnifying the waves of remembrance, allowing the crests and troughs of life to flow in cycles through the mind, without a body to give such retrospections substance.

There was an ancient one who lived in the southeast corner apartment on the seventh floor of the tall building called "The Home". She was a once-proud woman, who still had the strength to live by herself, although the attendants did bring meals to her, dressed and bathed her, and saw to it that she got into her bed for a few hours every night. However, she slept very little now.

A worn leather chair, salvaged from a long-demolished Starfleet vessel, sat two feet from a large window overlooking a view of an ocean bay below. The old woman spent most of her days in this chair, staring out onto the wide expanse outside. The arms of the chair glistened with a patina made smooth from her constant rubbing of their surfaces. Day after day she sat there, rocking back and forth, her lips moving in rhythm with syllables of long-forgotten words of command. Her clouded eyes sometimes brightened with memories, smiling at unspoken stories that entertained her. An occasional gentle laughter was sometimes replaced by small tears coursing down her hollow cheeks. When the attendants came to care for her, she gave them pats of thankful acknowledgment, nodding her head in of their efforts. She always held her head high, determined to be as self-sufficient as she possibly could.

Everyone knew who she was and what she had done in her lifetime. For sixty-three years, she was a Starfleet officer. As captain of the USS Voyager, she miraculously guided the ship and its crew through seven years of harrowing ordeals when it was lost and wandering in the Delta Quadrant. Upon their return, she rose to the rank of admiral and in the latter days of her career, she oversaw all Federation transactions with the Delta Quadrant.

Shortly after her retirement at age eighty-five, she mysteriously disappeared, presumably going back to the Delta Quadrant. Years passed, with no communication from her. Like her journey of so many long years ago, she was presumed lost… or dead. Then, one day, fourteen years later, she arrived at Deep Space Twenty, alone, aboard a Delta-Flyer class shuttle. She was in excellent health for a ninety-nine year old woman; but, as happens to many humans of this advanced age, she had difficulty remembering how she had arrived at the base, or even who she was. Retinal and DNA scans confirmed her identity as Admiral Kathryn Janeway; examinations of the ship’s automatic galaxy positioning logs indicated that she had traveled from an uncharted planet deep within the Delta Quadrant. She was weak and needed assistance in debarking from the shuttle, but she adamantly clung to a worn leather pouch cradled in her arms. She kept muttering something about it, that it was "her captain".

She had no surviving family, so Starfleet made arrangements for her to be transferred to the retirement facility that it maintained back on Earth. The edifice, called "The Home", was for others such as herself. Several floors in the building had been designated for those elderly Starfleet officers whose devotion to their careers left them no time for marriage or family… no one to see them through their final years. Care of these people at this stage was the least that Starfleet could do for them, after their lifetimes of faithful but lonely, self-sacrificing service.

She was always polite and cordial with the attendants and any of her rare visitors. She maintained an air of poise and refinement, conscious of an immaculate appearance. All that remained of the dark auburn hair of her youth and middle years were a few fine white wisps that flowed several inches below her shoulders. She liked it brushed back and fastened with a leather clasp at the nape of her neck. She refused any suggestions that she should cut her hair. Her ageless eyes retained enough color to invoke images of the fiery looks she once gave to her crews and associates. Sunken flesh around her cheeks and chin accentuated the patrician bone structure of her face. When she walked, even though her gait was tenuous at best, she held herself erect, squaring her shoulders with each step. There was no doubt that this was a woman who still remained in possession of herself, expecting – and deserving - respect from all around her.

She rarely spoke. Even when she appeared so suddenly at Deep Space Twenty, she could not – or would not -- answer the questions that she was asked. Most of her responses repeated those of her debriefings of over fifty years ago when Voyager came back from its strange odyssey. As days passed into weeks and weeks into months, she spoke less and less, withdrawing into her own world of long-lost memories.

One day, several months after she arrived at The Home, a new attendant came to her apartment along with her usual daytime caretaker. The newcomer, named J’Talen, appeared to be of Klingon descent.

Her familiar assistant, Harbram, noted the confusion on the old woman’s face. "It’s all right, Admiral; this is J’Talen. She will be helping me, and I wanted you to meet her."

The Admiral’s eyes softened somewhat as she began to comprehend what Harbram said. Her eyes focused upon and studied the high ridged forehead of her new companion, who had eyes of coal and rich, dark hair. A smile crept across her cragged face, as if suddenly remembering a pleasant memory from long ago.

"J’Talen. You are… Klingon?" the Admiral inquired of the young woman.

"I am part Klingon, ma’am. My… my father is Terran and my mother is Klingon."

The older woman raised a withered hand to J’Talen’s shoulder.

"A good combination, my dear; it’s a fine combination." She turned and shuffled over to her chair, her face peering over her shoulder with a nod of approval. "I like you."

J’Talen let out a sigh; she suddenly became aware that she had been holding her breath, concerned about the old woman’s acceptance. Although no one had ever mentioned any derogatory action on the part of the admiral – she was always the lady and never lost her temper like some of the other residents of The Home – J’Talen still had been anxious about Janeway’s reactions.

~~~

Over the next two months, J’Talen became more and more Admiral Janeway’s permanent companion. Although Janeway had not spoken much more than she did the day of their first introduction, it was evident that the two women had developed a comfortable camaraderie. Soon, J’Talen came to sit with the older woman, even when she wasn’t needed. She would read or study as Janeway kept her perpetual vigil overlooking the bay. Every once in a while, Janeway would mutter a barely distinguishable word or phrase. J’Talen would look up and smile, then quickly go back to her activities. Their relationship took on the feel of respectful concern.

One morning when J’Talen arrived at the apartment, she found the admiral up and dressed already. However, unlike her usual garb of a warm, loose-fitting robe over leggings, the older woman was dressed in a simple blue dress of much less fabric. The garment’s scooped neckline sagged on her shrunken body and the rest of the dress hung limply over her thin torso, falling to mid-calf. Its short sleeves enveloped her thin arms. Still, the dress looked so… right… on the old woman.

J’Talen smiled broadly as she walked over to Janeway. "Admiral, you look beautiful today!"

Janeway attempted to smooth away some of the long-imbedded wrinkles. "It was one of his favorites," she said. "He always liked this one."

A quizzical expression came over J’Talen’s face. "Oh, really?" This was more than Janeway had ever said to her before. "Who was… ‘he’?" she continued, realizing that this was quite a breakthrough.

"My captain."

"Your captain? You mean, from early in your Starfleet career?"

The monotone of Janeway’s face suddenly bloomed with rare color. "No. He was my captain… in the Delta Quadrant."

J’Talen gently took the woman’s arm and led her towards her favorite seat. "But, Admiral… you were the captain when your ship was in the Delta Quadrant."

Janeway stopped and looked up at her companion. "Not always. He was my captain… many times." She slowly turned and moved towards the sofa.

The younger woman shook her head with reproval as she caught up with her charge. The poor admiral was getting confused again. "Admiral, you were always in command of Voyager."

Admiral Janeway made her way to the sofa. She slowly began lowering her body into a seated position; however, gravity prevailed and pulled on her slight form until she plopped into place, falling against its tall back. She patted the open area next to her, inviting the younger woman to join her. She waited until J’Talen had taken her place in the designated spot. Her eyes grabbed and held J’Talen’s inquisitive ones before she continued. "But he was in command of me."

J’Talen knew immediately that she was going to hear a story that no one else had ever heard. Every hair on her body stood at rigid attention; every cell was alert with the sudden adrenaline surge. Her eyes widened with expectation as the old admiral spoke from long suppressed memories.

Janeway’s eyes fluttered closed, as she recalled the detailed memories of her story. They then opened bright and seemed to converge on events of a lifetime away. "He said I was his captain, but it was he who captured me, you know. I refused to admit it for a long time, and I almost lost him. I was always so stubborn and unwilling to let him into my life. I managed use Starfleet as my excuse, but he even saw through that." She paused, allowing a respite to recall exactly as it happened. "He was Maquis; I was Starfleet. By everything sanctioned, when he first appeared on my bridge in front of me, he should have been my prisoner. He should have spent the rest of our journey incarcerated in the ship’s brig. But one glance… one unspoken word… and we knew who had really won that day. I absolved him from his crimes and made him my first officer." A pause; a sigh. "Oh, yes; he captured my heart and soul right then and there… and he knew it."

"We came close to admitting our love for one another several times. He wore his heart on his sleeve for a few years. It was so evident that I think any crewman on Voyager would have to have been an idiot not to see it. Yet I could not respond; I demanded that Starfleet protocol and decorum be observed and maintained on the ship; after all, there was the possibility that we could get back to the Alpha Quadrant at any moment."

Minutes stretched into hours as the former captain of Voyager allowed the stories of her clandestine feelings for Chakotay to surface. For the entire seven years on Voyager, she cloaked her emotions, a feat that surely would have broken a lesser person. Complicated narratives poured forth; some facts J’Talen knew from the legends of the voyage, but most of what Admiral Janeway now shared with her were her most intimate, unwritten memories… stories involving spirit worlds and animal guides; plasma storms and monkeys and handmade bathtubs; memories of an inconsolable Chakotay rocking her inert body while washing her with his tears; intimate looks and jokes in public – and private -- aboard Voyager; his smile, his hands, his silent strength. And the disagreements… ah, those times when they never saw eye-to-eye; now, there was passion! He was always a passionate man.

The sun moved from its early morning position of reflecting off the waters of the bay. As Janeway continued her story, the Terran star reached its apex and slowly moved out of sight. The older woman leaned back into the supporting cushions of the sofa, weary from her confessions.

"I think I’ll rest a while, my dear," she said to J’Talen. "But please stay. There is much more that I want to tell you."

"I’ll be here, Admiral," she answered.

Kathryn Janeway smiled and drifted off into a deserved slumber.

J’Talen got up, shaking her head in amazement at the stories she had heard. Nothing… nothing had prepared her for such tales of love and devotion. Why hadn’t they ever openly admitted what they both obviously knew to be true? Chakotay… the mere mention of his name itself was filled with mystery. She didn’t know if she even knew anything about him after Voyager’s return; his story became lost in the decades since that event.

She found a small blanket that Janeway used to cover her legs when she was sitting by the window. She walked over to the dozing woman and covered her with it. She watched as the translucent eyelids of the older woman flittered, as if watching a holographic story taking place in front of her. Bits and pieces of indistinguishable words came from her lips, lost in the conversation of dreams.

J’Talen realized with a start that she was hungry; she hadn’t eaten since early that morning and it was now close to sundown. She wondered if the admiral had had eaten anything that day; that was one of the things she had been cautioned about… that the woman frequently skipped meals. She went into the small food preparation area and began to put together an evening meal with several of the items she had brought earlier in the day.

The smell of the fresh food being prepared woke the admiral. She got up and began a slow walk to the area. "Well, I must admit… that smells delicious, J’Talen," she commented as she moved.

J’Talen turned quickly, dropping the knife and greens she was chopping. "Oh, Admiral; here… let me help you!"

"Nonsense, girl; I should be helping _**you!**_ "

J’Talen laughed. "Not with the stories you’ve been telling me! Tell me, Admiral; did you _**ever**_ learn to cook?"

Janeway chuckled and waved her arm in a negative response. "Never, child; why, don’t you know? That’s why God created replicators!"

J’Talen continued her laugh in her response. "Well, I guess there’s not much you can do to ruin a salad. "Here… you can put these _**htobim**_ greens on our plates, while I finish cooking."

The women completed their tasks in silence. J’Talen served their plates and carried them over to the table in front of the sofa. She smiled as she poured two mugs of coffee… this was something that the Admiral was not suppose to have! But J’Talen knew it was her favorite beverage… and she deserved something special after today! They resumed their places on the sofa and ate the food with healthy gusto and sipped the dark, aromatic brew from their mugs.

Finally, J’Talen’s curiosity couldn’t be put off any longer. "Admiral, tell me… did you and Chakotay… the Commander… well, did you ever confide in each other… or do anything… about your…er… love?

" "Do you mean… did we ever express ourselves physically?" Janeway’s eyes glistened, recalling all the times that they almost confessed their deepest desires to one another… and almost succumbed to the smoldering passion. "No; no… we never did at anytime on Voyager or after we got back to Earth. But we knew; ah, yes; we knew. We also knew that, first and foremost, we had to lead our crew and get them safely back to the Alpha Quadrant." She sighed… a long, aching sigh. "So he remained in pain and anguish… always proper and correct in his actions as my first officer, offering advice and sparring with me when my decisions were not the wisest or most prudent. As for myself, the suppression of this forbidden emotion pushed me to the brink of depression; I know that I was close to mental collapse several times. But for seven long and faithful years, he stood by my side… as my first officer and my… friend. And then, even more suddenly than any of us ever expected, we found ourselves back in the Alpha Quadrant… back on Earth and with all the higher-ups at Starfleet."

"What happened then?" asked J’Talen, her eyes wide with wonderment.

"You never heard this part of the story, child? Why, he left! He was absolved of all Maquis crimes, but forbidden any further advancement with Starfleet or service anywhere but on Earth. In essence, he was under house arrest for the duration of his Starfleet career. He also was forbidden contact with any officer with rank higher than his unless approved by his direct commanding officer. This forbade us any communication with each other. When I heard this news, I went into a deep emotional spin. So he resigned. Right there and on the spot." It was nearly impossible for the older woman to hold back the long-time-in-coming tears. "He came to see me and begged me to come with him. But, once again, I allowed my own ambition to eclipse his precious love. I told him to go on… that I would follow." The tears now overflowed the reddened brims of her eyelids. She let them carve dark streaks into the thin flesh of her cheeks. "It was over forty years later before I kept my word." Her shoulders quivered as waves of despair washed over her.

All of the pieces suddenly fell into place for J’Talen; her eyes expressed her suspicion before her words exclaimed it. "You knew where he was, didn’t you? That’s where you went… you were together for those fourteen lost years."

The snow-covered head nodded. "Oh, yes; I knew exactly where he was. Fifty years would not… could not… change that knowledge of _**that**_ destination." Her age-ravaged face seemed to lose some of its years as she began this last part of her story. She leaned in closer to the younger woman, as if sharing a girlish confidence. "He was on New Earth, you know." She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. A peaceful radiance illumined her entire body. "I knew that this is where he would be and I was correct."

Her eyes opened, as she focused on a scene thousands of light years away. "Very little had changed since I last saw it – our shelter was still there, with a few additions he had made. My garden still existed, although it was obvious that he lacked gardening skills. But he was there… waiting for me. I landed my shuttlecraft a kilometer from his home, then beamed to him; my legs could no longer walk that distance."

A smile came over her… a smile that answered J’Talen’s unasked question: had he readily welcomed her back into his life? "And before you even ask, child," she chuckled, "yes; he, too, was old! His glorious black hair was as thin and gray as mine… and almost as long! His face was longer, and his once-broad shoulders… those shoulders that I had longed to lean upon so many years earlier… were lean and stooped. But his smile… and his eyes… told me that he was still the Chakotay of old. He held out his arms to me, as he never had been allowed to do before. And I walked into them… as I had never been allowed to do before." She stopped for a moment, letting the memory wash over her, obviously amused at its conjured images. She laughed softly. "But then… maybe we were just holding each other up! Ah, yes; we had supported each other so many times aboard Voyager… just not so much physically."

"He took me inside. The structure bore the imprints of his years alone, and yet I sensed that it was ours. We talked, but didn’t talk; it was enough just to be together. He showed me some of his projects from over the years… chairs, tables, carvings he had done. And then, he asked me to come back outside with him. We slowly made our way to an area behind the shelter, partially protected by a small copse of trees. And then I saw it. The boat. The boat he told me he was going to make when we were first there."

"A boat?" asked J’Talen. "Why a boat?"

"The was a small river nearby, which we had talked of exploring when we were first there… which we were going to investigate when he finished the boat. But we never got past the plans. That was when we learned that Voyager had obtained a cure for the virus which infected us, and they returned immediately for us. The boat plans faded into memory, just as our weeks alone on the planet did."

"Until he resigned and returned…"

"Yes; until then."

"Did he every contact you during that time?"

"Yes… in the beginning," Janeway continued. "Until Starfleet put a firewall in my communication system, forbidding us access to each other."

J’Talen sank back into the sofa with a loud groan of discontent. "Why were they being so cruel? Didn’t they think you’d been through enough?"

The older woman patted J’Talen on the knee, as if she were the one needing comforting. "Now, now; don’t be too hard on Starfleet. Remember… I was still one of their officers; I was in line to be promoted to admiral. And he was… well, he was the one they thought they were punishing." She stopped, allowing other memories to surface. "I had lost loved ones before and had survived; I would survive this, too; they knew it… I knew it… he knew it. And survive we did; in fact, the separation only seemed to make our relationship stronger."

J’Talen wanted to hear more of what happened… and all about the boat. She urged the admiral to continue with her earlier story. "The boat… he had built the boat. What then?"

"Ah, this is where the tale _**really**_ begins, my dear. The boat was a simple one, constructed from planked wood cured and curved around a keel of a single tree trunk resembling a white birch. A single mast proudly rose from the keel, towards the stern of the boat. The remains of a tattered sail were furled around its weathered post. A single flat seat was in the stern, allowing easy access to the simple rudder, and there were locks for oars, if necessary. I was in awe of this lovely vessel; even Voyager herself could not have invoked such a response as I gave. ‘It’s beautiful, Chakotay,’ I said, carefully bending down to rub the finely finished wood of its hull. ‘I thought of you every moment I worked on it, Kathryn, and you have been with me every time I’ve sailed it,’ he whispered to me. ‘I have never really been alone, you know.’ I looked at him and something told me that he truly believed this."

"And?" J’Talen prompted.

"And he asked me if I would join him for a trip in it." The elderly woman stopped and laughed. "I laughed then too! ‘Oh, Chakotay; however are we going to get this vessel down to the river? I doubt that either of us could lift or push anything heavier than a tricorder anymore!’ Then, he leaned down and pulled a wooden box out from under the seat. He lifted it onto the seat and pulled out a bundle that I remembered from long ago… his medicine bundle. ‘The way is in here,’ he said, as he solemnly opened it, revealing its at-once, familiar-again contents."

"I watched as each of his items appeared… each with its sacred meaning to him. I recognized the ones he had shown me before, but there was a new one now – the remains of a single rose, brown and fragile with age. I looked at him, and he nodded, silently acknowledging that it was the one he had given me after my experiences with the alien who had disguised himself as my father. I had known from the moment he gave me the rose that he not only considered me his friend but also a part of his soul.

" ‘Come with me, Kathryn,’ he said, helping me follow him into the boat. We sat on the platform seat and he spread the medicine bundle across our laps. He guided my hand with his, placing both of our hands on the round item in the center… the _**akoonah**_. ‘Close your eyes; clear your mind’ he instructed me. I did as he was told. A sudden jolt, like an electrical charge, shot up through our hands… warmth from the sun fell onto my face and a sound of the ocean flooded my ears. I opened my eyes to find us on a boat… but not the small one he had built.

"We were on an old-fashioned schooner-type vessel, much like those of six-hundred years ago, riding the curling waves of an ocean body. The boat’s single mast had multiplied into four, all with huge white sails billowing out with the cool winds blowing across the water. A fine mist of sea spray misted my face and lips. Shadowy figures of others were around us, seeming to work the ropes and man the helm and rudders. But they were not fully defined; it was if I could sense them… that they existed in a limbo of subspace and forcefields. But the gasp I heard come from my lips wasn’t from anything I have described yet… it was because of the image of the person who stood in front of me.

"No longer was Chakotay the ancient village elder who had met me so recently. The years had disappeared, and he stood before me as a young man, even younger than when we had been on Voyager. He was tall and dark, his skin bronzed by long days spent in the reflected sun off the ocean. The deep blue of his tattoo was the color of the water. His smile was carefree, with no heaviness hampering its formation. His dimples… oh, yes; he had wonderful dimples!… called to my hands to explore them and plumb their depths. He was resplendent in a full white shirt that mirrored the frothy whitecaps around us and he wore black pants that fit him much more snugly than any Starfleet uniform ever had! His thick black hair was long and pulled back into a ponytail, much like the way he always liked my hair to be. And then he laughed… did I ever tell you what a wonderful laugh he had? Most of the time it was quiet and polite… or sometimes mischievous. But this time, it was rich and full and hearty. I realized that he wasn’t the only one who had changed; I, too, had the physical form of sixty years earlier… vital and energetic and alive.

"He reached out to me, encircling my waist with his arm, and pulled me into his firm chest. ‘Is this the way you pictured us to be, Kathryn? Is this why you wanted the boat?’ "

"Indeed, he had us playing out one of my wildest fantasies… one in which I was completely within his spell, weak and willing and wanting. I don’t know how he ever found this out; I had never so much as whispered this wickedness to him. ‘How did you know?’ I finally managed to ask, as my heart thumped through the wall of my chest. ‘Nothing is hidden in this world,’ he answered. ‘All of our dreams and desires are one; here, we are no longer two, but one: one thought… one being… one soul. Here… there are no secrets, no regrets. Here… we are and always will be together.’ "

"I’m sure you’re wondering if I was frightened," Janeway laughed. "My dear, I had faced the Borg… the Vidiians… species 8742… yes, I was scared. Anything that plays with my mind gives me cause to be afraid. But he was there with me. Although our minds were traveling elsewhere, his grasp was warm and solid; he was there."

She stopped for a couple of moments, draining her coffee mug of the few remaining dregs of its precious elixir. "That was the first of our many adventures together; for, you see, he had devised a way for us to find our own dimension… our own universe. To be able live through the times we had been denied for so long. To live again. We went to places and saw things that no holodeck would ever have allowed us to go; we experienced a depth of love and passion that we had never known. Over the years, we ‘visited’ hundreds of planets and explored reaches beyond our galaxy.

"We delighted in the role reversals that we could play… with him as the captain, and I as his obedient mate. Ah; it was such a relief to be able to relinquish all cares of duty to him, with my only responsibility being to provide him with support and pastime. He had great leadership skills and talent; in many ways, I always thought that he was a better captain than I. I was frequently impetuous and rash in my actions and decisions; he was calm and steady. Yet, in either combination, we were always a perfect fit for one another.

"So, we traveled through time and space in our boat… our wonderful little magnificent boat! Never in the farthest reaches of my dreams or imagination could I have ever experienced more than I did with him in those years. We explored ourselves and places within ourselves that we never knew had been there. We discovered how deep our love was, and mourned over all the time we had lost by silencing it from each other.

"And don’t bother to ask. No, we didn’t live there constantly; we didn’t forsake reality completely. But it did allow us to fill in the emotional voids that had grown so large over the years. It allowed dreams to be revived and love to be fulfilled in the many ways that our aged bodies could never have allowed."

"Then why did you leave him?" J’Talen finally ventured. "Why not stay there forever?"

Janeway’s face shadowed, and her voice became feeble. "It was not my choice… or his. It was a plasma storm, much like the one I had been caught in when we were first on New Earth. However, this one came on much more quickly than any we had ever experienced before, and with a terrifying ferocity. He had gone outside to secure a few items. It was then…" her voice quavered, "… that I heard his cry and looked out to see him being flung through the gale forces, carried on the storm’s wings and hurled unmercifully into the trees by our boat. I grabbed the medical tricorder and ran out into the tempest, the wails of my own voice being lost in the chaos of the storm. But I knew before I even reached him that I was too late… that he was dead.

"His battered body lay crumpled and folded unnaturally across the gunnels of the boat. His face was already caught into its death mask; but his expression held neither fear nor pain, only peace. I vainly tried to find some glimmer of life, but there was none. As if sensing my grief, the storm stopped as suddenly as it had come upon us, and the only sound was my voice as my entire being cried out. I stayed there, holding his broken form in my arms, until the cold of night threatened my well being, too. I almost stayed, wanting to join him, having no desire to remain in a universe without him. My fingers, stiff with the cold, fumbled for his medicine bundle. The _**akoonah**_ … perhaps I could reach him and bring him back before he was too far gone.

"But I could not do it alone. It had been the two of us together… the melding and blending of our spirits… that had enabled us to create our spirit world. We were separated now, and the power was gone. Just like he was gone.

"I made it back to the shelter and fell into a torturous dreamless sleep. The following morning I awoke, hoping that it had all been a horrible dream. But it hadn’t. I could still see his body in the boat, over by the trees.

"I spent the day moving around in a shocked daze, wondering what to do. In our self-exiles, we hadn’t been in communication with the Federation for almost fourteen years; if I contacted them, they would presume that I was just an addled old woman…" She stopped with a chuckle, shaking her head. "I even doubted that anyone was still alive who would remember us! My old shuttle was still around; we had checked on it every once in a while, when we felt energetic enough to walk out to it. We could beam back to the shelter, but we had no means of beaming to the shuttle… otherwise, I would have beamed him onto it and brought him back to Earth with me.

"But New Earth was his home; it had been for so long. In the end, I decided to leave him there, and that I would come back to Earth alone. I managed to find a large tree… windfall… and move it over to the area of the boat. I used it as a lever, and rolled the boat over on top of my wonderful Chakotay; our source of joy became his tomb. I pulled brush up around the edges, as if protection were needed. Over the next few days, I gathered together a few things… and my despondent spirits… and then said good-bye for the last time. I walked to the shuttle and left New Earth for the last time."

Janeway looked at the woman sitting next to her, as an expression of wonder and skepticism spread across her youthful face. "You don’t believe me, do you?" she asked, sighing. "Well, I can’t say that I blame you; I don’t think anyone would. But, my dear, all of this was a real as you are, sitting right here beside me."

J’Talen shook her head, attempting to dislodge her disbelief. "Admiral, I really don’t know what to believe… or _**not**_ to believe… anymore. Life can bring us many strange things."

Janeway silently stared into the eyes of her young attendant, waiting until she saw that J’Talen would at least give her story the benefit of a doubt. She leaned back against the sofa and soon her head nodded into sleep, overcome by the strain of telling her story. J’Talen pulled the throw blanket around the thin frame of this giant of a woman, letting her rest before her final bedtime preparation.

J’Talen got up, realizing how tense her legs and arms felt. She paced quickly around the room, stopping to stretch and release all the kinks in her muscles. That had been quite a story, although it was obvious that the poor elderly woman was mixing up facts from long ago with a fantasy world that wove its web in her mind. She went over to the low table in front of the sofa and quietly picked up the used mugs and the supper plates with their remains. As she took them to the recycler, she smiled again at the admiral’s wonderful imagination.

She went back to the dozing woman and gently shook her. "Admiral… Admiral Janeway… I think it’s time for you to go to bed. You’ll be much more comfortable sleeping there than out here."

Janeway’s eyes fluttered open into narrow slits as she stirred into semi-consciousness. "Eh? Wha… what? Oh, yes; it’s you, J’Talen. Bed… yes… that’s where I want to go… to bed." She allowed her companion to help her get up and guide her into the sleeping area.

Falling back into their usual silence, J’Talen undressed the frail woman and lovingly spread the worn blue dress across the back of a chair. She eased her into a warm nightgown and brushed her hair, containing the thinned tresses with the well-used clasp. A brief trip to the bathroom, a quick wash, and Kathryn Janeway was ready for the night. The two women walked slowly over to the waiting bed.

The younger woman gently straightened the admiral’s thin legs onto the cool sheets and pulled the thermal fleece covering over her, hoping that this revered woman could once more escape in the solace of her dreams.

"Are you all right now, Admiral?" A silent nod answered her question; she turned and indicated a dimming of the lights to a nighttime level, then J’Talen quietly left the small apartment.

Silver-gold beams from the full moon slithered through the closed slats covering the windows, painting patterns of crisscross shadows across the woman in the bed, embracing her with their luminance. Her frail hands escaped from the cocoon of the covering and she reached under the bed, searching for a hidden article. She smiled as she felt the object of her quest. With a sigh that spoke of eternal secrets, she tugged a leather pouch out from its hiding place and drew it under the covers. She cradled it close within her withered arms. As she had done dozens of times before, she raised it to her lips and tenderly kissed its worn surface, lovingly whispering but one word: "Chakotay…"

It was only then that she fell fitfully into the restless twilight sleep of the old.

  
  


~~~ finis ~~~

 


End file.
